


Dorian Bullshit

by Thaliel (Alodia)



Series: Love Interest Bullshit [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fluff, Fluff without Plot, M/M, dorian does the dance thing, i'm p. excited about it, the 10 silk scarves dance, yes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-22 04:29:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3715069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alodia/pseuds/Thaliel





	Dorian Bullshit

The Tevinter mage sighed, “Must I?”

Darien laughed, “Yes, of course.”

Dorian smoothed his hands over his hips, moving into place the silks which hung there and double checked the ties which anchored two scarves to his hands with ties which slipped over his middle fingers. He lamented his fate briefly, cursing his big mouth and relentless need to tease. Dorian was _not_ a shy man, but the dance was considered provocative, even by Tevinter standards and the thought of Darien watching him perform it both thrilled him and sent his heart racing with nerves. He didn’t know which was stronger, the butterflies or the heat which polled in his abdomen when he pictured the elf’s clear and impossibly pale blue eyes following him as he moved.

He was joking when he told Darien about the _chorus decem sericorum_ but the Inquisitor seemed determined to make him perform. He had even sent Josephine out to acquire silks for him, long lengths which moved over his legs like water and shimmered with the blackest of black shot through with gold whenever he moved. He had to admit it did make for an excellent contrast with his olive skin and dark hair.

He glanced in the mirror once more before turning to flay flat the last piece of silk, finally covering the last of his flesh with the length and concealing the pitch black undergarments, also silk, which he wore underneath. He had nearly asked for help twice while getting dressed, the assembly of the outfit was tedious, lopping length after length around his body and then down his hips, long slits left up to his hips which revealed his thighs when he gave an experimental spin.

Darien didn’t ask about the dance, but Dorian suddenly wished he had never told the other man about it in a slightly alcohol induced rambling in Halamshiral. The place has _reeked_ of nobility and in a desperate fit to think of _anything_ else Dorian had spent most of the night drinking and teasing the Inquisitor.

Dorian sighed and tried to calm the red in his cheeks, but he knew it was useless. He was going to dance for that man, whatever he was, boyfriend, lover, temporary companion, and he knew he was going to love doing it. There was a intriguing duplicity anytime the dance was performed, it was something commonly shared between only those who were _very_ close, but it could always be seen in the windows of brothels, flashes of shining silk almost anywhere you looked.

He had never performed it for anyone before, and he wondered if Darien knew. Had he researched the dance? Had Josephine caught on and told him how momentous this was for a Tevinter in a relationship, no matter how new? Dorian rather felt like he was confessing his love with hip shakes and elegant bends, but did Darien know enough to see it?

 There was no use pondering it further, with the last scarf in place, it was time to dance for his ~~boyfriend~~ ~~lover~~ Inquisitor and let the chips fall where they may.

On the deepest breath he could manage he arranged his face into a seductive one, one eyebrow raised and lips quirked and he span once as he exited the dressing area and entered Darien’s view. Flashes of gold and the deep void of black danced at the corners of his vision as the fabric rose with his movement, swirling around his hips and flashing tantalizing lengths of tanned skin.

The faint exhale from Darien as he watched, eyes wide, was all the fuel he needed to continue. He lifted one leg and then stepped back into a deep dramatic bow, making sure to look Darien in the eyes before he moved again.

He was like water over stones with movements so precise and well-practiced, it was almost a shame he had never performed them for anyone before. Hours in front of a mirror paid off almost immediately as Darien’s eyes raked over him, the path of his gaze leaving trails of fire over Dorian’s skin. Every time Dorian swayed his hips or bent over he could have sworn there was magic crackling in the air, the hot touch of Darien’s magic moving towards the warm caress of his own, heating the air and making it filled with energy. It was surprising they both managed to keep control enough to not set off a spark of lightning, although every torch and fire in the room was glowing brighter than was natural.

When swirls of his hips changed to small leaps with elegant twirls at the end, Dorian could tell Darien was on the edge of his seat, fingers itching to touch him by the way his fists were clenched and he was almost scowling with the effort. Dorian smiled wide and kept on, humming a tune lightly as he went along to keep time. It was impossible to miss how Darien’s almost silver eyes followed his every move, memorizing the lift of a leg or the elegant extension of an arm, taking in whenever he could the flat planes of his stomach and every flash of thigh.

In truth, the magic in the air, the warmth from the fires and the seductive slide of silk over Dorian’s thighs had the Tevinter’s breath already coming in short and his skin tingling like he was being touched all over. It was likely due to the touch of magic in the air, pushing in so close to him he could taste it, and Dorian resolved to dance for Darien as much as he could in the future.

He leapt once and then dropped down into another low bow, this time with his leg extended forward and his arms out to the side. His dramatic finish.

He stayed there, his chest heaving and glinting with his effort, waiting for Darien to move or say something. He jumped out of his skin when he felt Darien push back on his shoulder, righting him before pulling him down into a kiss.

“That. Was. _Magnificent._ ” He said, each word punctured by a kiss to the other mage.

Dorian leaned down into him, both of his arms draped around his shoulders as he stepped close, “Thank you kindly.”

Darien chuckled low in his chest, but the small elf didn’t do much more than that, simply staying where he was and kissing the man who had thoroughly dazzled him. Magic continued to press between them, brushing against skin and twining like two winds and swirling through the air.

“I’ve never done that for anyone before,” Dorian admitted quietly, his cheeks heating anew with something other than exertion.

Darien pulled him until he was backed up against the bed, “Good.”

“Good? What can you possibly mean?” Dorian asked, leaning back to look down.

Darien fell back against the bed and pulled Dorian along with him, “I would have to be terribly jealous if anyone else had seen _that_.”

“Oh, truly?” Dorian settled over the smaller man, one hand trailing over the vallaslin and allowing his other hand to support his weight.

Darian drifted a hand under the silk and up his thigh, moving until his fingers encountered the edge of the undergarments Josephine had reluctantly sourced for him, “I would have had to… Inquisit them. Or some such.”

Dorian laughed but it quickly turned into a kiss, lips brushing against one another heating them through and shooting sparks just underneath the skin. Dorian leaned down into Darien, a hand ghosting over the leathers Josephine had insisted he wear, horrible beige things that at least made his butt look good. Darien sighed and Dorian ate it up.

“Truly,” he murmured, a hand ghosting under the other man’s leathers, “I am excited by your penchant for possessiveness.”

Darien laughed, “I will keep that in mine next time I want to fly into a rage when an Orlesian eyes you.”

Dorian faked a shiver and moved to bury his face in Darien’s neck, nipping just in the hollow and quickly pulling at the ties which held his shirt closed, “Oh they’re Orlesian? Please do feel free to fly into a rage, as you say.”

Darien started pulling at the ties of his shirt as well, moving until their hands met in the middle, “I shall.”

Dorian sighed when he got his hands finally under the shirt, gratified he could press his fingers into the warm soft skin dotted with scars. Darien returned the favor, moving his hands over his bare chest and ghosting over pieces of silk here and there.

“You know…” Dairen said, pressing a kiss to his shoulder, “Josephine told me something interesting.”

Dorian froze, but kept his voice even, “Did she?”

He nodded, his hands drifting south and pushing into Dorian’s hardening length, “She informed me that this dance is something like a declaration of love.”

Dorian jumped and Darien bit into his shoulder, punctuating his last word.

“Well,” Dorian muttered, “Doesn’t _someone_ have a big mouth.”

Darien laughed and then kissed away the bite mark, “I love you too.”

Dorian leaned up and looked down at him, “You do?”

His eyes shined with a rare showing of vulnerability and Darien found his hands moving up again to caress Dorian’s cheeks, thumbs drifting over cheekbones and trailing along the curl of his mustache. “Of course I do.”

Dorian smiled, his eyes growing watery but he kept his brave face, not willing to cry over something which was _happy. Gloriously happy,_ he would remember this moment until the day he died, reliving it over and over again and thanking the Maker for his good fortune, for giving him someone so perfect, someone who wanted him not just to have sex with, but to love and cherish and nurture something which would last a lifetime.

Dorian leaned down and kissed Darien again, “Maker, you are perfect.”

Darien laughed.


End file.
